The Beauty Is
by strumpetforhire
Summary: A little Valentine's trifle involving Betty, Henry, and a darkened office. Light on plot.


Over. It was finally, finally over.

Betty leaned back in her chair, reveling in the silence of an empty office. Fashion Week was over, and the steady stream of _Mode_ employees leaving for the weekend had finally slowed to a trickle, until she was the only person left, lazily going over an expense report. She knew she should be in a hurry to leave, but she was too tired to be in a hurry about anything, much less about facing the news media still camped out in the lobby. She also suspected that Daniel might still be hiding somewhere in the building, and she wanted to be there just in case he came by. Betty's week hadn't been particularly sunny, but though her sister had driven her crazy, at least she hadn't come back from the dead with a new face, body, and gender. A strange thing to be grateful for, perhaps, but since coming to work at _Mode_, Betty had found that the blessings she counted were wandering further and further from the normal realm. Daniel, on the other hand, had had his world turned upside-down in the past week, and she wanted to stay close by just in case he found out that his mother was really a trapeze artist named Maxine or that he had an illegitimate identical cousin tucked away in Canada.

She groaned as her phone rang, banging her head on the desk as she bent over to retrieve it from her bag and answering with a pained "Hello." She had hoped it might be Daniel, or maybe even a certain other someone, but instead found herself greeted by Walter's adenoidal tones.

"Betty, I'm down in the lobby and security won't let me in. Come get me?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Walter, I'm working right now. Give me about half an hour, and we can share a cab back to Queens."

"No, Betty. I need to talk to you right now."

"So talk to me."

"It's not something I can do over the phone. Just come get me."

"I really don't have time right now, Walter."

"Pleeease?"

"Oh, all right. I'll be down in a minute."

Betty sighed. It was going to be a long night.

----------------

Betty had been right, as usual. Daniel was hiding. He had been all day. In truth, he hadn't wanted to get out of bed at all that morning, but when he awoke the paparazzi were already swarming around his apartment building, and he figured they would be easier to avoid in the cavernous building that housed Meade Publications. So far, he had been fairly successful at hiding not only from the paparazzi, but from everyone else as well. It was really amazing how much you could learn about a building when your family owned it, even if you had spent most of your life dreaming up ways to avoid it.

However, Daniel suspected that one person was still there--Betty--and luckily for him, Betty was the one person he didn't mind facing at the end of a long day spent ducking and covering. Still moving as stealthily as he knew how, Daniel exited the stairwell, entering the blindingly white halls of _Mode_, hoping he didn't run into anyone else on the way to his office. As far as he could see, the entire floor seemed deserted, so he was doubly surprised when the sound of raised voices reached his ears.

"Why would you even think that I would help you?"

"Come on, Betty! It's just a tiny favor."

"No, Walter. A tiny favor is asking someone to feed your cat while you're out of town. A tiny favor is trading shifts with someone at work so that they can take their kid to the circus. A tiny favor is not asking me to spy on my boss and his brother...sister...whatever!"

"One picture, Betty. Think how much we'd make selling it to _The Examiner_."

Daniel couldn't believe his ears. He'd never much liked Walter, but this...

"And I'd lose my job and Daniel's trust in the process, not to mention the fact that, morally and ethically, this is completely wrong."

"So this is all about Daniel?"

"Of course this is about Daniel. He's my friend. I care about him."

"You're cheating on me! First that Henry guy, and now Daniel?"

"No! He's my boss, in case you hadn't realized, and my _friend_."

Daniel felt slightly better at this, though he felt increasingly worse for Betty having to put up with this guy, though Daniel had to admit he may have had a point about Henry.

"I can't believe I stayed with you when I could have had Gina Gambarro, and all the time you've been pining for a guy that wouldn't look twice at you."

"You didn't stay with me. You cheated on me, and I, for some reason unknown to either God or man, took you back. And no, you couldn't have had Gina Gambarro. All Gina Gambarro wanted from you was a flat-screen TV."

"Four years, Betty! That's got to count for something, at least enough to keep you from cheating on me with some...some rich guy."

"This is insane, Walter. I didn't cheat on you. I wouldn't cheat on you. The very fact that you think I'm capable of cheating on you is proof that you're crazy!"

"Oh, sure. I was good enough for you when you were just Hilda's little sister in Queens, but now you've got a fancy Manhattan job, and suddenly I'm crazy to think you're thinking of trading up. You know, they weren't exactly lining up in the streets for you when I asked you out."

And, apparently, Daniel thought, the final straw just dropped onto the camel's back.

"I think you should leave, Walter," she said, her voice tightly controlled.

"What?"

"I think you should leave," she repeated, her voice growing louder. "Take your camera and your batteries and exit the building. If you attempt to speak to me again, if you show up at my house singing "Beauty and the Beast" or helping my dad fix the TV, if you try to talk Hilda into letting you have her leftover Herbalux hand cream, if you even look at Justin or anyone in any way connected with me, I will take those batteries, and...and I don't know what I'll do with them, but it will hurt. Do you understand me?"

Walter nodded mutely, shocked by Betty's fierceness.

"Good. Now, go," she dismissed him.

He turned, shoulders slumped, and shuffled toward the elevator, narrowly missing a collision with Daniel, who had been watching, transfixed throughout the argument, and only barely remembered to dive back into the shadows before Walter saw him. Daniel continued to watch as Betty's defiant, angry posture slowly faded and she collapsed back into her chair, looking dejected. He wasn't exactly sure what to do in this situation, torn as he was between the desire to land at least one solid right hook to Walter's jaw, comfort Betty, and stave off having to deal with anymore problems than the gargantuan ones he was already facing. While punching Walter's lights out had its points, he wasn't sure how Betty would actually feel about physical violence. Likewise, while he wanted to comfort Betty, he wasn't sure how much help he would be in his current mental state. Luckily, he had an idea.

After waiting a few minutes for Walter to leave, he crossed to the elevator and pressed the down button. He only hoped the building wasn't quite empty yet.

-----------------------

Henry was tired. He had already worked more than a full day and had been on the verge of leaving a friend in Human Resources called with an SOS, muttering unintelligibly about some kind of number crisis. Luckily, the crisis had been averted, and he now wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for a decade or two. Leaning tiredly against a wall, he waited for the elevator to open.

Not expecting that anyone would still be working, he was surprised when the doors slid open to reveal an elevator occupied not just by anyone, but by Daniel Meade, himself. While he had met Daniel before, he wasn't entirely certain if Daniel would remember him, and he would have let the ride down go by in silence if he hadn't noticed that Daniel didn't seem to be going to the lobby.

Deciding to risk bothering him, he asked, "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Meade?"

"Hmm...what?"

"You seem to be headed for the third floor, and I think I might be the only accountant left in the building, so if you need one..."

"Oh, am I? I don't know how I did that. I was trying to get out of this place. It's just...it's been a long day, you know?" he sighed.

"I understand. I mean, I don't understand," he stuttered, "but I can...yes. It has been a long day."

Daniel chuckled slightly at Henry's predicament. How exactly do you commiserate with a man whose father is in jail for murder and whose brother/sister has returned from the dead to take his job? Deciding that finding the humor in his situation was probably a good sign, Daniel decided to plow on despite Henry's discomfort.

"A very long day. And, as if everything else weren't enough, now I have to deal with an upset assistant thrown into the mix."

"Betty's upset? Why? What happened?"

"That's right; you know Betty. Anyway, I'm not really sure on the details, something about a fight with her boyfriend. She didn't look too happy when I left."

The doors slid open again, this time revealing the lobby. Daniel exited, then turned around to face Henry.

"Isn't this your stop?"

"Actually, I...I think I forgot my...my laptop. I'll have to go back up for it. Have a nice evening."

The doors closed again, leaving Daniel smiling. Yes, this had definitely been a good idea.

--------------------

Betty sat, hunched over at her desk, attempting to work but unable to accomplish much through her haze of hurt and anger. The thought of breaking up with Walter had been playing at the back of her mind since Christmas, and it had been moving closer to the surface since she had learned about Henry's Christmas phone call, but she had been putting it off, knowing that this week of all weeks was not the time to take on any extra personal problems. However, his showing up at _Mode_ expecting her to act like a paparazza had been the final straw. She couldn't believe the things he had said. Was she really so undesirable, that the only man who could possibly want her was Walter, and then only until something better came along? She wanted to slap the receding hairline straight off of him, while at the same time she wanted to curl up in the fetal position and hide under her desk. As Walter had already left and the floor was too dirty to make hiding under her desk practical, she settled for crying into her expense report.

Hearing the ding of the elevator, she prayed that whoever it was had the wrong floor and would leave her in peace, but the sound of approaching footsteps meant that she would have no such luck. Her second thought was of finding someplace to hide, but unfortunately for her, _Mode_ was built like a giant goldfish bowl, and with only her lamp on, she knew she must be lit up like a beacon. Still, she decided to take a shot at disappearing and leapt up from her desk, catching her elbow on her lamp and sending it flying to the floor, where it fell with a crunch, plunging the room into darkness.

The footsteps stopped for a moment, then proceeded forward, this time more tentatively. When they had almost reached her, they were joined by a voice.

"Betty?"

"Henry?" she asked, incredulously, amazed that the one person she most wanted to see and most wanted to avoid just happened to show up.

"Yep," he answered. What are you doing?"

"I'm...working in the dark? You know, conserving energy, saving the environment. Just call me Captain Planet," she joked.

He smiled bemusedly. She never ceased to amuse and amaze him.

"While combining the powers of earth, fire, wind, water, and heart is a noble goal, I think the globe will survive having one more light on. Where's the switch?"

"No!" she panicked. "Please, don't."

"Betty? Is everything all right?"

"It's fine, I just...I..."

"What's wrong? You can tell me. I won't tell anyone. Scout's honor," he said, holding up a hand which, even in the dim light, Betty could see was the Vulcan signal for "live long and prosper." She let out a strangled giggle at that, and he quickly shook his fingers into the proper shape.

"Sorry, wrong gesture. But you really should let me turn the light on. We don't want to leave that lamp on the floor for someone to step on."

"You saw that?"

"It was a little hard not to, but I can pretend I didn't if you want, though that still leaves us with little bits of lamp on the floor."

"I'll clean it up later. I just don't really feel like being looked at right now. I'm a mess."

"I don't mind."

"Trust me, I don't cry like they do in the movies. I'm not a pretty sight."

"I doubt that, but I can sit here in the dark until you feel ready for human sight again, if you want. Unless I'm holding you up, in which case..."

"No, you're not holding me up. I'm glad you're here; it's just that you're the last person I need to talk to about this."

"Oh," he murmured uncertainly. "Okay, then. I guess I'll..."

"Wait, no, I'm sorry. That came out wrong. It's just...it's about Walter, and I'd really feel terrible if I dragged you into the whole mess, too."

"I want to be dragged in, though," he replied, glad that she wasn't just trying to get rid of him. "I mean, I've been told I have a pretty sympathetic shoulder, and besides, you've got too nice a face to keep in the dark. So why don't you let me help? At least let me listen."

"You...you think I'm...I mean, you think I have..." Her voice tightened at this, and, much to her chagrin, the tears returned.

Cursing himself for upsetting her again, Henry made another attempt at comforthing her. "Hey, don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean...whatever I said. I mean, just forget about it, but please don't cry."

Realizing that Henry had no idea what was going on, she attempted to clear things up for him, starting with, "I'm sorry. It's stupid. Really, really stupid. You didn't...didn't..." but the tears returned again, and she gave up on trying to speak.

Awkwardly, he reached toward her in the dark, hoping he didn't come into contact with anything he shouldn't be touching. Finding her shoulder, he patted it uncertainly for a moment before giving up and encircling her in a hug. It felt wonderful, a bit too wonderful, really, and Henry felt momentarily guilty for feeling so happy to have Betty in his arms when she was so obviously upset by something. However, there didn't seem to be a way out of that predicament, so he continued to hold her, slowly stroking her back as she cried.

When her crying seemed to have abated, he loosened his hold on her, walking her back to her desk chair and urging her to sit down. Perching himself uncomfortably on her desk, he fleetingly wished for a handkerchief. Guys in movies were always giving women their handkerchiefs, and it always seemed so suave. Unfortunately, though, he was no Rhett Butler and so had to make do with handing her a few kleenex from the box he had just sat on.

"I'm so sorry, Henry," she apologized, feeling guilty for forcing the poor guy into comforting her when he probably just wanted to go home. "I'm not normally the damsel in distress type."

"No problem. It's not often that an accountant gets to be a knight in shining armor."

"I mean, I've been meaning to do it for weeks, but I just didn't want to deal with it, at least not until after Fashion Week."

"Uh-huh," he answered, trying and failing to follow her train of thought.

"And then, everything with Daniel and his brother and his father, and I just didn't expect him to say..."

"Uh-huh."

"And what was I supposed to do? I can't believe he actually thought that I would go along with it."

Finally, he gave up trying to follow and decided to stop the train in its tracks.

"Um...Betty?" he interrupted, "While I don't mind listening, you might want to fill me in on a few more details if you actually want me to follow what you're saying."

"Right, sorry," she replied, chagrined. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"Not a lot, but that's okay. It's like being a detective. You tell me the what, and I get to figure out the who, why, and how."

"Walter and I broke up."

"Oh. And that's what you were..."

"Planning to do, yeah. But I just wasn't sure. I didn't even know how to start. I mean, he was my first boyfriend."

"Sure, I understand."

"But then he came here, and, after asking me to snap covert pictures of Daniel and Alexis, he said...well, let's just say I wish I'd let it stick the last time we broke up."

She sighed, thinking that sharing the details of what Walter had said would just make her seem pathetic, but not knowing what else to say. Sensing her discomfort, Henry attempted to cheer her up again, praying that this time would be more successful than the last.

"I, uh...I don't know Walter," he began, "or anything about the last time you broke up, so I don't have much to say on that. But something I do know is that you, Betty, are amazing. You walk into a room, and everything gets a little brighter. I mean, I've worked here for two years and I've seen some of the most glamorous women in the world, and none of them can hold a candle to you. I know that sounds corny, but it's true, and any guy that can't see that is an idiot."

"Wow," she said, feeling suddenly lighter, amazed that someone could think of her like that when she had been told not all that long ago that no man would date her out of anything other than pity. "That was...thank you, Henry. Thanks for rescuing me."

"Anytime," he smiled. "They don't call me SuperAccountant for nothing."

"They call you SuperAccountant?" she asked skeptically.

"Maybe not, but I wish they did."

"All right, then, SuperAccountant. I..."

She was interrupted by the shrill chirp of her phone, which she turned to answer.

"Hello...hi, Daniel...no, I was just leaving...Are you sure?...All right, then...good night."

She finished the call and turned back to him, her fingers still toying with the phone cord.

"That was Daniel. He said he sent his car back here for me, so I can make a quick escape from the lobby. Can I drop you off anywhere?"

"That's okay. I think I'll just take the subway."

"It's the least I can do after crying all over you."

"Well, if you're sure it wouldn't be putting you out..."

"Not at all."

"All right, then. Thanks. Can I ask just one more thing?"

"Sure."

"Do you mind if I turn the light on now?"

"Oh, no. Go ahead."

Luckily for Henry, he found the nearest switch without too much trouble, and soon the room was flooded with light again, leaving them both squinting and blinking owlishly at each other. When his eyes had adjusted to the brightness, Henry took in the sight of her, rumpled dress, eyes that were still slightly red and puffy, and fingertips trying frantically to smooth her unruly hair, and he wondered why she would ever think she needed to hide in the darkness.

"That wasn't so bad, was it? You look fine. Actually, you look lovely. Really lovely."

Betty blushed, unable to think of a response. Afraid he had crossed some sort of invisible line, Henry stepped back, reaching out to take her coat and remarking lightly, "Well, I guess we ought to get going before your car turns back into a pumpkin and six white mice," he said, helping her into her coat and leading her toward the elevator, one hand remaining unconsciously against her back.

They didn't speak much on their way out of the building, and the ride to his apartment was similarly quiet, with no more than a few words exchanged here and there. Finally, when they had nearly reached his block, Henry worked up the courage to do what he had been meaning to do since he had left Human Resources earlier that evening.

"I..." he stammered, "I, uh...I don't know if this is breaking some kind of post-break-up code of ethics, but I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Well, when I was on my way out this evening I got a call from a friend who was having some kind of budgetary problem."

"Did you fix it, SuperAccountant?" she asked, smiling.

"What do you take me for? Anyway, he had a pair of tickets to a musical next Wednesday, but his girlfriend is going to be out of town, so he gave them to me."

"Really? Which musical?"

"_The Light in the Piazza_. I don't really know much about it, but I've got an extra ticket, and I know it's Valentine's Day, and you've just broken up with your boyfriend and if you want to stay home and eat cookie dough and watch _An Affair to Remember_, or if you'd rather do anything else with anyone else, I completely understand, but I thought, if you want to go, and you're not busy, it might be...fun. We could, I don't know, have dinner beforehand, or afterwards, or whatever you want to do. I mean, not as a date, because even I know you don't ask a girl out on the night she breaks up with her boyfriend, but maybe just as a...something else, if you want to. If you don't, then..."

"That sounds great, Henry. I...I'd love to go."

"Really?"

"Definitely."

"It's a date. I mean..."

"I know what you mean."

"Oh. Good, then. Well, I...I guess this is my apartment building," he said, noticing that the car had been stopped there for some time.

"I guess so."

"And I guess I should say goodbye, now. I'll...I'll see you Wednesday. I mean, I'll see you before Wednesday, but I'll see you Wednesday, too."

"I'll see you...then. Goodnight, SuperAccountant."

"Goodnight, Cinderella."


End file.
